


Paraphilia

by Nihiley_Face



Series: NSFW Fics [1]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Humiliation kink, Masturbation, Other, Sexual Fantasy, Tom's Kinks Are Questionable (tm), objectophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-16 23:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14820740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihiley_Face/pseuds/Nihiley_Face
Summary: Tom's fetishes are questionable.





	Paraphilia

**Author's Note:**

> This is a cursed fan fiction please don't read it

It was late at night, around nine o'clock on a Saturday night. Stars out in the cloudless sky, the cool, dry breeze blowing through any open windows. It felt so nice to feel these blessed breezes, in Tom's opinion. If he weren't so tired, he'd probably just sit in the backyard for hours, just looking at the sky and enjoying the coolness of the night with a cup of coffee that won't work on him, or maybe some tea. His flask of vodka, perhaps?

Everyone was in their rooms or preparing for sleep by taking baths or brushing their teeth, et-cetera. Tom was in his bed, kind of watching YouTube on his phone, but also half asleep. His eyes were burning from exhaustion, and he'd had a long day at work with these bitchy customers. He hated them so much, and he couldn't take any more of their constant whining.

He'd had a long day at the bar. Too many customers asking about his eyes, refusing to let him serve them, being too whiny for this, or that. It was annoying. But his boss was hot and pays him well. Tom thought that his boss might be interested in him. For some reason. He's never really considered himself attractive or anything of the sort. He didn't even know how he'd managed to catch a one-night-stand every once in a while, it was odd for him.

He got home that night too tired to do anything but change into some sleeping clothes and lay down in bed for three years. Unfortunately, he only got three hours of sleep before a horrible nightmare woke him up in cold sweat. He was too scared to go back to bed, now. He hated those stupid nightmares.

He couldn't really remember it that well, but he had the lingering taste of blood on his tongue, and he could have sworn he felt it on his teeth when he moved it. He hated these stupid fucking nightmares. They scared the living shit out of him. He couldn't remember it, but he had a feeling he knew what it was about, anyways. Turning his head to the wall beside his bed, he refused to think about it any further.

He lay in his bed, tired and bored out of his mind. He couldn't sleep, now. Fucking nightmares. He just hoped that he could get enough sleep to go to work tomorrow, because coffee didn't work for him. Stupid nightmares, stupid ADHD. He was getting himself in a bad mood, now, and if there was one rule of thumb about anything, it was to never go to sleep mad. He tried to think of ways to distract himself instead.

He rolled over in his bed, looking around his room for something to do. He was tired of being on his phone for the moment, and he set it down on his bed, next to his pillow.

He always had weird fetishes and kinks. As if he wasn't enough of a freak already. His teeth made their way to his bottom lip and stuck there stubbornly.

God, he was so weird.

He kept his gaze from his bass like it was a person who knew he was staring, but the fact that he knew it didn't know made his stomach do flips. It was just a guitar, it didn't know anything, or care about anything, because it was inanimate. Tom almost envied his bass; so blissfully unaware of the atrocities going on in the world, happily singing along to Tom's fingers on her strings as he played, without so much as a single care in the world, she sang.

God, he was so weird, but she was just so... Perfect. In her own wooden ways, with the chipping paint and the broken input-jack, she was still so beautiful. Tom wanted to run his hands along those smooth curves, make that pretty voice sing with the deep, luscious tune of a low-toned song.

God, he was weird, so fucking weird.

He buried his face in his pillows as he reached a hand lower, to his groin. He palmed himself a little through his boxers. He was ashamed to admit that his lewd thoughts brought something desperate and hungry to life, and he hated it a little. He brought a quiet eye back up to his bass, his face turning redder and redder with embarrassment.

He was humiliating himself in front of an inanimate object.

And was kind of getting off on it.

What a freak.

He let out a desperate sigh, as he watched his guitar, sitting in it's stand, unmoving, unknowing, uncaring. It was bliss. He reached his hand further, into his shorts, pushing and pulling at smooth skin behind that chafing fabric gently, and wow, he was just a fucking freak, wasn't he? He thought that, and smiled destructively.

He had to admit, the humiliation was a turn on, even if it was just an inanimate object he was getting humiliated in front of. Even still, he wondered what it might be like if someone was watching.

He thought about Edd, or Matt, but neither of them seemed the humiliating type. Then Tord flashed through his mind, and blood rushed to his groin faster than he could say "classic, stupid, Tom!" He let out a high-pitched sigh that was almost a moan, and his dangerous smile got wider. He closed his eyes and flipped to his back, letting his mind wander through his weird fetishes and fantasies as he continued to jack himself off.

He soon realized that he needed some lube when going faster started to hurt. He sat up a little and turned to his nightstand, pulling open the top drawer. He pushed all sorts of things aside, knick-knacks, Ska Weekly Magazines, an old inhaler and some tiny liquor bottles. On the bottom of the drawer, he found himself some lube. He bit his lip and grinned gently, his blank eyes flickering to his guitar for a split second before he flopped back onto his bed and signed lustfully, the gentle hint of a moan coming from his parted lips.

He thought of bringing his bass into his bed, and he thought about putting his mouth on one of those metallic tuning pins. He was such a fucking freak. He's loved it. Soon he was panting heavily, his arm getting tired, so he had to switch out. He let out quiet, but lewd whimpers; testaments to his freaky paraphilia. He was really getting off on this, good God.

He imagined what Tord would think. He would probably make fun of Tom, obviously. He'd call Tom a freak, and a weirdo. A creep. Tom just bit his lip at the thought and held Tord's name off of it. He gripped the sheets with the wet hand he wasn't using and bucked his hips. God, he felt so good, but there was just something so... Bad. But in a really hot kind of way.

So Tom lay, writhing in his bed like a pathetic worm while he got off to the thoughts of his bass guitar and getting humiliated. God, if someone walked in right now, he'd probably just cum on the spot, and the thought had him edging. He was so fucking close. So, so close. He panted loudly, wanting to cry out at this point. He thought of those sweet curves on his bass, and how he wanted to play those strings so badly right now. He kicked his legs a little, the stimulation almost being too much, and he was only jacking off.

He came to the thought of Tord looking down at him, disgusted, with a word like 'freak' or 'whore' on his lips and Tom let out the most desperate and pathetic whimper the silence has ever heard. He came on his hand and shirt. He just took it off, and wiped his hand on the shirt, then took off his boxers and lay in bed, naked.

He licked his lips.

He was so fucking weird.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if this is a Shitpost or not and the fact that I put Time And Effort ™ into this is scaring me.
> 
> But hey, check out my blog, or something, I guess. Or don't. That's cool, too. 
> 
> @daddy-issues-anon.tumblr.com


End file.
